


why do you do it?

by lokh



Category: Nabari no Ou
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:56:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3853186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokh/pseuds/lokh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>using physical pain as comedy is a trope oft used between raikou and gau. it really shouldn't be. </p><p>i promise it's fluffier than i make it sound, i'm just toeing the fine line between fic and analysis is all</p>
            </blockquote>





	why do you do it?

**Author's Note:**

> so post-canon. people talk a lot about how raikou actually treats gau pretty badly, and i agree. it's played up for laughs and stuff, but like, idk, he threw a book at him once??? anyway, the point is it's sort of like. maybe beyond the comedy aspect there's a reason he's inclined to being violent?? like, obviously that doesn't excuse his hitting gau. but at least in the realm of fic i can address that and actually like, idk, have him _not do that_
> 
>  **tw:** mentions of abuse and abusive behavior

“Raikou, do you hate Gau?”

You drop your chopsticks into your rice. You can almost hear Gau yelling frantically in your head.

The question leaves you, for a moment, grasping at memories and reassurances that yes, you’d saved Gau, you’d do it again and again, yes, he’s still alive, and yes, he did smile at you when he saw you again. Gau doesn’t hate you. You would never hate him, even if he did.

“What gave you that impression?” you manage to say, in favour of something quite ruder. Yukimi shrugs, shovels another forkful (chopstickful?) of rice into his mouth. At some point in your life, you may not have even graced him with an answer, save for that of your fist, and if you weren’t currently suppressing the urge to do just that, you might’ve been proud of yourself.

“You hit him an awful lot, is all,” Yukimi shrugs, again, and you’re still staring at him when he’s finished his bowl. “Not really the sort of thing you do to someone you don’t hate.”

“You hit me all the time,” you argue, but it sounds weak, even to you, and Yukimi looks unimpressed.

“You seriously comparing me and you to you and _Gau_? I don’t hit Miharu. Or Yoite. Didn’t, I mean.”

“I don’t hit him _hard_ or anything. Just flicks and stuff. Friendly punching type of thing.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

He looks at you. You shift, uncomfortably.

“Seriously, man. For all that he’s loud and annoying, he looks like a strong wind could snap him in half. I heard you _killed_ a guy once for laying a hand on him. Why do you do it?”

Your mother’s face looks back at you. Your sister has her eyes.

“…he gets carried away sometimes, and won’t listen to me to calm down.”

“There, was that so hard?” he says, leaning back with his arm folded over his chest. “So he gets loud. But you don’t have to _hit_ him. He’s not a dog. And you shouldn’t be hitting dogs, either.”

You scowl. You open your mouth to retort.

What comes out is, “what should I _do_?”

Even Yukimi looks surprised at your outburst. You sit down awkwardly.

“I dunno? Anything? Talk to him about it. Pick him up. Look disappointed. Hold his hand. I don’t know, literally anything else that isn’t yelling?” Yukimi scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, I only ever had to shake my head at Miharu, and even then that wasn’t often…”

You look down at your food, as if it could tell you what to do. From Yukimi’s side of the table, the dishes clink together and the chair scrapes against the wooden floor, too long pauses in-between from faltering. You stand.

“Yukimi-san, let me do that for you…”

“Oh, thanks.”

It’s quiet as you take the bowls to the sink. You don’t _think_ that when you hit Gau, it hurt. Or did it? He never said it did. But would he, even if it did? He once ate salmon nigiri with a literal _pile_ of wasabi stacked on top of it because he thought you were _testing_ him. He couldn’t _possibly_ think that you’re testing him now, could he?

And it’s not like you leave bruises. Not that you’ve seen – you don’t make it a habit to stare at him when he changes (though admittedly, he’s always been reserved about that). But even so…

You’ve already left a permanent mark on him. You don’t want to leave any more, physical or not.

“Thank you, Yukimi-san,” you say, after a pause, and the lethargic shuffle of footsteps comes to an abrupt halt.

“Um. No problem?”

 

 

 

“Welcome back!”

“I’m back,” you say, in response to Gau’s grin. The TV is on, volume low, and papers are scattered all over the kotatsu. With Kairoushuu disbanded, you’ve been busy with matters of the Shimizu clan – but Gau’s been left doing almost nothing. His involvement with the hidden world seems to have declined with the dissolution of Kairoushuu, and honestly, you’re glad for it. He’s recently expressed interest in going back to school, though – it’s not too late.

How long has he been sitting there, anyway? Though his feet are stretched out beneath the kotatsu, he’s shed his jacket and is left wearing a loose sweater. He’s sensitive to temperature, so you know he must’ve been really cold earlier, but he also retains heat easily. He must have been sitting here for hours. Maybe longer if his vacant stare is any indication. You’re about to scold him for studying for too long when he yawns, letting go of his pencil to stretch up and over the table.

His sweater slides down, just so (is that yours?), and he leans back with a sigh, and along the sliver of collarbone revealed, you catch sight of the scar you left on him. You stop.

You don’t think Yukimi was wrong. Quite the opposite, in fact. He’s quite astute when he wants to be, and you do respect him for it, no matter what you say to his face. But if it _did_ hurt, if it _did_ bother him – why wouldn’t Gau tell you?

Does it _not_ bother him?

Gau seems to have given up on studying for the moment, casting glances at the TV. He doesn’t like pain – not particularly afraid of, just not exactly fond of it either. But you don’t think that’s it, either. What if- what if he thinks he’s done something wrong? What if he thinks it’s _punishment_?

What if he thinks he _deserves it_?

_‘I’ve come to accept my punishment.’_

“Raikou-san?”

You jump.

Gau stands in front of you, worriedly. He’s shut the TV off, remote still dangling from his hand.

“Is something wrong?”

You don’t know what to say to him. Should you say anything at all? Isn’t it good enough for you to just stop hitting him? But it bothers you that he allows himself to be hit. Does he really think he’s doing something wrong? Does he really believe you’re in a position to punish him?

Or is he just too afraid to tell you?

“No,” you say, finally, after an eternity has passed. His concerned gaze does not shift from you. “No, I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“Okay,” he says, dubiously, but he doesn’t press. It looks like he _wants_ to, though. So why doesn’t he? Maybe you’re just reading too much into it. He moves on quickly though, talking about dinner and breakfast for tomorrow.

You think that you _should_ bring it up with him. But not now.

 

 

 

Violence was part of your childhood. It had to be, what with growing up in the hidden world.

Maybe a better word for it would be discipline. Your mother would have thought so.

It’s not like she _beat_ you, or anything. No, she was strict, but not unnecessarily so (though perhaps you would have debated that as a child). Blunt, but not excessively harsh. No, she didn’t beat you.

It’s true, though, that to hurt and to be hurt was normalized in your life from the very beginning. First was your mother’s words, that the sword was not used to protect but to kill. First, you had to learn – to accept – that in the end, all you would do was hurt. Then you had to learn how to _be_ hurt and to tolerate it.

You wonder now if there had been pressure put upon you, as the eldest child of the leader of the Shimizu clan. Maybe things would have turned out differently if you weren’t.

Wooden swords hurt. Real swords hurt more. Your wounds weren’t left untreated, but your mother would laugh if you tried to skip practice for some ‘petty paper cut’.

“In the Nabari world,” she’d said once, while you were tending to a cut on your forearm, “you’ll get injured. Your comrades will get injured. But you keep fighting. Should your leg be broken, should your arm be snapped – it doesn’t matter. You fight, or you run. But you don’t stop, no matter how hurt you are.”

Violence has always been part of your life. You’ve never wanted it to be part of Gau’s.

 

 

 

“I never meant to hurt you.”

Gau stops, mouthful of noodles hovering between parted lips. To be honest, the statement caught even _you_ off-guard – you hadn’t meant to say it out loud, hadn’t quite thought it out enough to let it into the open.

“What are you talking about?” he says, setting his chopsticks down, eyes filled with concern. “You haven’t hurt me. What do you mean?”

“I hit you.”

Gau stares at you in confusion. He’s wracking his brains for a specific instance. You think it’s bad enough that he has any instances to _choose_ from.

“Sometimes you’ll get heated, and I’ll hit you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Raikou-san, what’s going on?” he says, standing and moving closer to you. You stand, too, and he looks up at you. “That’s not – it’s not a big deal. I yell too much, anyway, honestly, just- what are you…?”

“Gau,” you say, raising your arms.

You never noticed it before, but sometimes he flinches if you move too fast, too _close_ , and to think _you were –_ have _been_ the cause of it.

“Gau,” you say again, hands on his cheeks, and his gaze flickers across your face. “I’m not testing you or anything. I’m not expecting an answer from you, and I – I’m sorry if I made it seem that way. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You didn’t! You don’t,” he tries, voice insistent and hands firm on your wrists, but you shake your head.

“I shouldn’t hit you, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay!”

“ _It’s not_ ,” you say. Then you feel the weight of guilt pressing down on your stomach, and you lower your voice in an attempt to ease the tension that suddenly ran through him. “It’s not. It isn’t right, and I won’t do it again. It’s not – you don’t deserve it, Gau, it’s not your _fault_ , you haven’t done anything wrong. I can’t ask you to trust me – ever, if at all, and definitely not straight away, but I’m going to _try_ , okay?”

The defiance is bright in his eyes. ‘I _do_ trust you’ – you know that’s what he _wants_ to say. He stares at you, searching; there are a thousand questions running through his mind, but he says nothing, and you know it’s because he’s _afraid_ of what your answer might be – you know it’s because there’s still a part of him that doesn’t trust you.

He says, instead, “okay.”

 

 

 

You find it ironic that you gave Raimei that spiel about paying attention to the thoughts and feelings of others around her, when the very same can apply to you, even now. It’s become more and more obvious to you how much Gau cares about you - it’s the little things you never consciously paid attention to before. He’s mindful to sit on your good side – the side you can actually see out of. If you think about it, even when he can’t, he always makes sure he’s in your field of vision before he starts to talk. Gau really does care. You don’t know if you’ve been responding in kind.

It’s been about a month since you all last met up. Hanabusa-san has once more graciously allowed you to make use of her home (after almost bringing down Miharu’s house), and so you find yourself and the usual group seated around and alternately yelling at each other and eating. Raimei is talking to Miharu about something or other (school, you’d hope, but with those hand gestures you wouldn’t think so), while Miharu himself is making okonomiyaki. Yukimi brought along Yoi, and is currently trying to prevent the little beast from tearing apart the primroses. Hanabusa-san seems content just to laugh at him. You have absolutely no idea where Tobari is. This is of absolutely no concern to you.

“I’m telling you, he’ll be _fine_!”

“Do you own a cat?” Yukimi says, desperately grabbing at Yoi to no avail. “No, you don’t. I’ve owned a cat. Several, in fact! And I’m telling you, _primroses are bad for cats_.”

“Yes, but he’s hardly going to _die_.”

“Are you volunteering to clean up his vomit and diarrhea, Tenpa-kun? Because if you are that’d be just- ow! _Swell_!”

“That’s disgusting, Yukimi-san.”

“Can it, Miharu. Also, aren’t these _your_ primroses Yoi is digging up?”

“ _Maybe_ this wouldn’t be an _issue_ if you hadn’t brought along Yoi at all, Yukimi-san!”

“You’re telling me to leave him at home, _alone_?!”

Their volume is steadily escalating, and Gau has risen from his seat. Yoi digging up the garden has suddenly become a non-issue to Yukimi, who has diverted his full attention to the argument at hand. In just a few moments, Raimei may jump in and start yelling (for the hell of it, who knows), and Miharu might jump in with a sarcastic remark (or prove that he had the situation under his control the entire time). If you’re lucky, Tobari will suddenly materialize and make everything even more chaotic.

That is, if you don’t stop Gau from turning this into a full-on verbal fight.

This is usually the part where you’d smack him over the head. This is not what you should do.

What should you do, though?

If you were Gau, what would make you calm down? Alright, scratch that. It would take a miracle. Maybe more. How about, what would make you _stop yelling_?

You lean over and, carefully, wrap your arms around him. Even through his thick coat, you can feel his slight frame, and all things considered, he is quite warm. A child’s warmth? Maybe it’s all the yelling. It’s nice, you think.

He stops.

Yukimi stops.

“Um,” he says, going still in your hold.

“Um,” Yukimi says. Yoi meows at him.

“Shh,” you say. “Stop. No more yelling.”

Well, he _has_ stopped yelling. He also appears to have stopped breathing, though, so maybe you’ll have to think of an alternate solution.

“Gau, calm down.”

He makes a muffled sound, which you are going to liberally interpret as an affirmative. How long should you hold him for it to be effective? Well, there’s no harm in waiting a few minutes. You wait.

He takes a noisy breath. You’re just glad to know you’re not going to have to call the hospital (or Juuji, wherever she’s disappeared off to).

“Um, Raikou-san,” he says, still motionless. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to quiet you down,” you say. Your shrug ends up jostling him.

“Yes. Well. Um. Not that I’m complaining, Raikou-san, but, uh. Usually you just.”

“Just?”

“Well, smack me.”

You open your mouth. It then occurs to you that what was about to come out may not be entirely appropriate. You take a moment to reword your potential disaster of a sentence.

“Gau, do you want me to hit you?”

“Uh. No?”

“Right. I told you I shouldn’t. I said that I won’t. It hurts when I hit you, right?”

“…no?”

“Gau.”

“Well,” he says, avoiding your gaze, “a little. Sometimes. But it’s fine! I’m used to it!”

You frown.

“That isn’t something you should be used to.”

He winces. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize.”

He opens his mouth, then changes his mind. “Okay.”

“You know, I _do_ care about you,” you continue, because for whatever reason your brain is convinced this is a good opportunity to blurt out your feelings, and Gau goes bright red, squirming awkwardly but you power on. “I trust you enough to talk to you about things. If you want to ask me something – personal, or whatever – I won’t yell at you. I won’t tell you it’s none of your business.”

Gau continues to squirm and fidget, and his hands are on your shoulders and pushing in embarrassment, “okay, Raikou-san, that’s enough-“

“You’re important to me, Gau. I _care_ about what you think.”

“Raikou-san,” he says, and his voice is wobbly and he’s stopped trying to push you away, instead opting to bury his face into your chest.

“I want you to talk to me.”

“Raikou-san,” he says again, and you hold your breath – maybe this is where he tells you that you’ve been wrong, that really you _have_ hurt him and he can never trust you again and oh god what if he wants to leave you? You’ll support his decision no matter what, but it still hurts, what if-

“Do we have to do this in front of everyone else…?”

You turn and stare.

Yukimi is unsuccessfully trying to cover Miharu’s eyes. The little devil himself is covering his mouth, eyes wide and shining and a hand clutched at his chest. Raimei looks torn between fleeing and breaking you apart so no one has to witness this spectacle. Yoi has successfully stolen everyone’s okonomiyaki.

“Youth is so beautiful,” Miharu gushes, dabbing at his eyes, and Yukimi flushes, ushering him away.

“As if you aren’t a kid yourself – come on, give them some space,” he says, and the rest of the group returns their attention to their food, and you mercifully ignore his muttered, “and maybe a room.”

“Sorry,” you say, and Gau is shaking his head, face still pink as he breaks away.

“No, it’s. Um. It’s fine.”

He looks up at you, eyes wide and dark, and you resist the urge to look away. He stares at you, then he says, hesitant, “so I can ask you anything?”

“Yeah. I won’t get mad.”

He stares at you even longer, biting his lip, and you’re half-expecting a loaded question, maybe about what brought this on (and some small uncontrollable part of you wonders, deliriously, about marriage), but then he just smiles, burying his face into your chest again.

“Okay.”

You relax, and allow your hand to rest on his back. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice that the others are (pointedly) not looking in your direction, so it should be fine to let yourself just sink into the embrace. You could probably fall asleep like this. You hope Miharu doesn’t draw on your face.

“Raikou-san?”

You almost jump. (Almost!)

“Yeah?”

“So… I can _tell_ you anything, too, right?”

And this makes you lean back to look at him. Somehow, the notion that Gau would confide in you was out of the realm of your imagination (even though he certainly has no trouble about telling you absolutely anything and everything when you ask and when you don’t).

“Well, I. Sure. Yes?”

He grins. “Okay.”

You pretend your heart isn’t beating too fast. You don’t know what you were expecting, really.

“Raikou-san?”

“Yes?” you sigh, resigned to yet another question.

“I love you, Raikou-san.”

“I- uh.”

(Yukimi does a poor job at concealing his snort. You hope his okonomiyaki gets stuck in his nose.)

He shuffles, stares up at you with guileless eyes. He doesn’t trust you, not completely – but he still trusts you far, far too much. He gives you much more kindness than you deserve. You don’t think that you deserve these words from him, don’t deserve the _trust_ he places in you by telling you. Do you hate Gau? Of course you don’t. He deserves the world from you. You want to give it to him. You don’t know if you can.

‘If you want to, then do it.’ Someone told you something like that once, didn’t they? To eliminate all the obstacles to your goal and to achieve it no matter what it took, if the goal was really that important to you. You _want_ to be deserving of Gau’s trust. You’ll just have to overcome your own shortcomings, to fulfil both your goal and his.

You’ll do whatever it takes.

“I love you too, Gau.”

You find out that it’s much harder to get him to stop yelling than you thought.


End file.
